All or Nothing-An Alternate Ending
by At Leisure
Summary: It is the promised alternate ending to the story 'All or Nothing' at the end of Part-II.


**A/N: **I was pretty sick for most of the time while writing it and though I hope I have given it my all, if it still doesn't come up to expectations, then blame it on my sickness (but definitely not me ;)

There are a lot of points that I have deliberately left untouched or to the readers' imagination. The reason for that is that going into too much detail would have taken a lot away from the actual ending to 'All or Nothing'. And though I have written this one as honestly as I could, the other one is, without a doubt, more important to me.

Still, I have tried to resolve everything and I seriously hope that you guys like it. I also hope that the one's, who are really frustrated with the story, would not come back to the original until I finish it. Seriously guys, stay away…its for your own good…coming back and reading the original would only frustrate you further and would also render the effort I have put into this one moot.

Sorry about more than usual mistakes, didn't have the stamina for detailed editing.

Have fun, and don't forget to review.

**All or Nothing-An Alternate Ending**

Elizabeth placed the back of her head on the adjoining door as she tried to regularize her breathing while her face once again went crimson at the thought of Lady Catherine finding her being kissed by a shirtless Fitzwilliam. _'A shirtless Fitzwilliam!' _her hands shook at the thought of her husband and his nearness, and his kisses and…and that was where she stopped. She needed to walk to her bed without collapsing on the way.

As she fell on the bed, she clutched a pillow to her chest in a childish effort to calm her heart down, for it really had been beating wildly for hours now. How could he kiss her like that? How could _she _kiss him like that? How can anyone kiss the way they had? She was heating up once again, the memory of his touch was still burning on her lips. He had told her that she would never forget this night and really, how could she? Unless she lost her memory as a result of some accident and what was the probability of that?

She clutched the pillow more fiercely to herself as the whole night flitted across her closed lids. It had been going well after the initial awkwardness, they had laughed, he had joked, it was all rather ordinary until he removed her robe. His hand on her waist, warm and firm, his lips on her shoulder, his breath on her neck, it was a wonder that she had not cried out loud or even gasped. She had wanted to kiss him when he had asked for closeness, but her heart had wanted more, it had asked for a declaration. Elizabeth closed her eyes at the memory of his confession.

_"__Elizabeth__," Darcy whispered as his lips slipped down to her eyes. Her lids closed as she felt the heat of his touch on her eyes, "my beautiful wife," his hands were on her back as his lips slipped down her cheeks. It was difficult to breathe; his lips were so warm, his touch so tender, his words so beautiful. "Oh darling," he said breathlessly with his lips near the corner of her mouth, "my love, my beautiful, precious love," he went down to her jaw, still mumbling softly but Elizabeth stiffened and pulled back as she looked up at him with disbelief._

_She had not much hope of him declaring himself after he had talked about this being the next logical step in their marriage and had every intention of retreating as soon as she possibly could, but this changed everything._

_"Y-you," she gulped and stared at him, "do you really mean it?" Hearing Darcy call her _'my love'_ had made her wildly beating heart come to a quick stop. It was as though her life depended on his answer, and he did not disappoint._

_"Mean it?" He asked as he loosened the ribbon from her hair and let it fall on the bed, "I live it, I breathe it," he said huskily, his intense grey eyes stuck to her face in a most loving manner. Something took life inside __Elizabeth__, in that moment she felt complete, nothing was missing from her life anymore, all that she needed was in front of her, **was hers.**_

The first kiss had been soft and sweet as he had captured her lips with his own and explored them slowly, tenderly. Her heart fluttered at the memory of her fingers entangling themselves into his hair in a desperate attempt at steadying herself. But then he had asked her to open her mouth and everything had turned into a joke once again. Elizabeth smiled, she really was rather ignorant.

How handsome he had looked with his eyes crinkled and a laugh upon his lips, how natural it had felt to joke with him and exchange their first impressions of each other, until she found out that she was not the first woman to ever be touched by him. She knew that gentlemen visited places where their _needs _were taken care of, but that was where her information ended. It should not have mattered to her for it had been such a long time back, almost a decade ago that he had indulged in such activities. He must have been a mere boy back then, hardly sensible enough to decide what was best for him, but it did bother her.

She had felt betrayed, as though he had been unfaithful to her. It was ridiculous to feel that way but her love was too demanding, too possessive to take that piece of information in its stride. She needed to feel that he was hers alone and that was why she had kissed him. Their lips had met to lay claim on each other and her whole body had erupted into flames. If that was love, she wanted to feel it fully, if that was love she wanted it to consume her, if that was love she wanted to be _it._

_'No one but you,' _he had said and no one but him, she had felt. The proud man that she had first met had completely vanished, there was only the loving man who told her, _'for me there was and shall never be anyone but you.' _Elizabeth hid her face in the pillow, just like she had on his shoulder. How good he had smelled, she had wanted to stay in his arms forever while his warmth engulfed her.

She trembled as she remembered how his lips had felt on her pulse, she had not been able to stifle her sigh anymore. The more she had moaned, the more insistent he had become, pressing her to the bed, pushing against her. She opened her eyes and absently gazed at the canopy; it had been somewhat odd the way he kept slowly rocking against her but it had not been until she had felt her gown slipping down that she had opened her eyes to find him without his shirt. In the heat of the moment, it had completely skipped her notice when he had slipped the strings of her gown down and also when he had taken his shirt off.

That had been overwhelming. She suddenly felt remorse as his crestfallen countenance flashed in front of her eyes. Darcy had almost begged her to be his, _'let me make love to you,' _he had implored and she had refused and then ran away the first oppourtunity she had gotten. She had not meant to goad him, nor was she of a mind to entice him and then draw back, she was simply overcome with the rapidity of events.

Now in the seclusion of her room and with a relatively normalized heartbeat, she pondered the situation again. He obviously loved her and even more obviously he desired her and yet was willing to be patient for her sake at a great cost to his self-control. Elizabeth had seen and felt his need in the manner that he had touched her; how he had struggled to be gentle and how he had tried to be patient, and suddenly, she did not want him to struggle anymore.

They loved each other, wanted each other and were married to each other. It made sense to take that leap and more than that, Elizabeth wanted to take that leap. Being touched by him was akin to being told by him that he loved her for with every touch, every caress and every kiss, she could feel his passion for her. She softly moved her finger on her lips; the desire that had traveled through his lips to hers was growing every moment. Her breath hitched once again at the thought of giving herself into his power, at giving herself up to the craving that he had kept leashed so far. She wondered how he would react if she went to him now and allowed him his heart's desire?

She gulped and clutched the pillow back to her chest. He would react violently, of course, and she needed at least this night to prepare herself for the night that was to come. Something fluttered deep inside her at the thought of his arms around her once again and she felt satisfied with her decision, she was ready to consummate their marriage…whatever consummation was.

* * *

Elizabeth woke up with a start at the sound of thunder outside. She lazily looked around without registering anything and sat up. It was then that she noticed the gown she was wearing and a soft blush spread upon her cheeks at the memory of the previous night. The room felt chillier than usual, perhaps because it had been raining since late last night, she had heard the raindrops against her window before finally succumbing to sleep. She got up and asked the maid to enter at the sound of the knock.

"Your bath is ready, Mrs. Darcy," she said in a hushed tone and Elizabeth nodded and started walking towards the bathroom.

She raised her hand absently to untie her hair and it came back empty; her husband had already untied her hair for her, last night. The ribbon might still be lying on the bed where he had touched her so intimately. Elizabeth took a deep calming breath and stepped into the warm water after getting out of her gown. She wondered if Darcy was awake yet as she scrubbed her arms reluctantly, not wanting to erase his touch from her skin. But she had it in her memory and nothing could ever erase his warmth from there. She stepped out of the bath and accepted the robe that Elsie held out for her and again a chill went through her; the weather really had cooled down over night.

She allowed Elsie to dress her in a soft lilac gown, for she knew how well it suited her and she wanted to look beautiful for him that day, only for him. It was a good thing that everyone else was leaving for Matlock that day except the Darcys. Elizabeth smiled at thinking of herself as a Darcy for the first time. _'And why not?' _She thought contentedly. She was to become his, absolutely, in a few hours, heart, soul and body, what was in a name.

"Oh ma'am," her pleasant reverie was broken by Elsie's voice, "you have a bruise here."

Elizabeth looked up sharply and saw Elsie pointing at her neck. She peered at the mirror and turned her neck a little and it did seem as though there was a mark in the crook of her neck and the left shoulder.

"Give me the hand mirror," she asked for the round mirror lying on the vanity and then held it closer to her neck to inspect. It was a small mark that seemed to be turning purplish. Elizabeth pressed it with her finger but there was no pain. She shrugged thinking that perhaps something had bitten her, it was strange though that it did not hurt.

"Leave a curl loose above it," she told Elsie who swiftly moved on to her hair.

Elizabeth smoothed her hands over her gown before entering the dining room. She deeply repented not being able to have breakfast on the balcony because of the rain, it would have been a more private area to be with Darcy. She felt a little disappointed as she entered the room, for it was empty accept for the two footmen stationed by the door. Darcy was probably still asleep, it had been a strange night. She sat down on the chair on the right of the head and was about to pick up a muffin when the doors to the dining room were thrown open and in came the very man she was waiting for.

"Leave us," were the first words he uttered as soon as he saw her and the footmen bowed dutifully before exiting.

It was impossible not to blush as he came closer and sat at the head of the table, and it was also impossible to look at him.

"Good morning," she hesitantly gazed up at him and found his eyes slightly red-rimmed. He had obviously not slept, or slept very little on the previous night. She gulped. He merely nodded and then picked up a toast.

"Would you not have anything form the sideboard?" She asked by way of a conversation opener.

"No," was the firm answer as he started to butter his toast, without looking at her.

_'Well,' _she thought with amusement, _'if he is not going to talk to me then why send the footmen away?'_

"Should I pour you some tea?" She could see that he was in a bad mood and could almost guess that she was the reason, or her refusal from last night was.

"If it is not a problem," he extended his arm and grabbed the newspaper.

"Well," she said pointedly, _"it _certainly is not, but something is."

"Hm?" He half turned towards her with his eyes still upon the newspaper.

"Is the news more interesting than me?" She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, not that he could see it.

"No, indeed," he kept his eyes steadily on the newspaper.

"Fitzwilliam," she could see the paper getting wrinkled under the pressure of his grip, "I did not consider you to be the sort who throws tantrums."

That statement did catch his attention. He looked up at her and she could see confusion in his reddened, tired eyes. She wanted to remove his frown like she had on the previous night, but felt her courage slipping.

"Tantrum, madam?" His tone was dry, almost cold or perhaps she was reading too much into his every gesture.

"Are you angry at me?" She thought plain speaking would be a better approach to get him out of his dour mood.

"What could possibly give you that idea?" He still seemed puzzled at her questions and either he was a very good actor, which she knew that he was not, or he was genuinely not offended.

"You are being very taciturn this morning," she said looking dejectedly at him.

How much fun they had had last night as they had laughed and kissed and held each other close. What could possibly have changed in one night that he could not even look at her now?

"Oh," he said with a tired smile, "I could not sleep a wink last night and I have a splitting headache right now."

Elizabeth softly slipped her hand into his lying conveniently near her. Immediately his eyes became guarded as he gave her hand a soft squeeze and then extracted his out of her grip.

"You can sleep after the guests leave," she suggested mildly, trying to ignore the twinge in her heart because he had refused to even touch her.

"Oh I plan to," he said taking a sip of his bitter tea, "for a week."

She smiled. A joke was always a good sign, especially if uttered by Darcy.

"Did the rain keep you up?" She asked as she absently scratched where a curl of hair was irritating the skin of her neck and suddenly she saw his eyes widening.

"W-what is this?" The newspaper laid forgotten on the table next to him as his eyes affixed to her neck.

"Oh this," she shrugged as she fingered where she thought the mark to be, "it is only a bruise."

"Does it hurt?" For some reason he looked guilty.

"No," she said nonchalantly, at least something got his attention. "Probably some insect bit me in the night."

Darcy blushed. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him and he coloured even further.

"You should probably cover it up," he suggested as he hastily took another sip of his tea.

"All right," she agreed easily. "I shall wear a high collared bolero, it is somewhat chilly today as well."

Once again silence fell on the table. Darcy silently sipped his tea, apparently in deep thought. Elizabeth had started to feel a bit agitated with his continuing silence by now. Anything was preferable to this indifferent façade, even an argument.

"Are you angry because I refused you last night?" The words at the back of her mind slipped out even before she could rethink them, let alone stop them.

"What?" Darcy turned sharply towards her and then he looked appalled. "No," he uttered vehemently, "do you really think that I can be so conniving that on one hand I will give you my word to maintain my distance and on the other I would try to expedite matters by manipulating you by means of acting the martyr?"

"No," she placed her hand on his once again, this time he did not make a move to detach it, "of course not. I only thought that perhaps you…that," Elizabeth had no idea how to finish the sentence decently, "that you resent me for it."

"Of course not, child," he said in exasperation and then stopped and looked at her in apprehension, "I meant Elizabeth."

Elizabeth looked at him with disbelief, how on Earth could he think of her as a child after what had happened between them last night. Did he think her immature, childish?

"It does not matter," she said coldly.

"I want you to know that I do not, nay cannot, harbour any resentment against you for wanting us to wait," he said calmly but his eyes were saying something else as they moved over her face and flicked constantly towards the mark that had appeared over her neck. "Please do not be concerned about that subject."

"But I…," she wanted to let him know that she had no thought of waiting anymore, but he did not let her finish as once again he took his hand out of hers.

"In fact, I have thought of a plan that I think and hope," he smiled his first smile of the day, which somehow felt a little forced to Elizabeth, "that you would approve of. What do you say to going to London?"

"To London?" She asked with surprise. She had definitely not expected such an offer, for at that moment London held no attractions for her. "But…."

"Yes, London," he did not even hear what she was about to say as he told her of his plan, "I have discerned a wish in both you and Georgiana of spending more time together, therefore I thought that perhaps it would be for the best if you accompanied her to town."

It was as if some one had poured a jug of cold water upon her. Here she was, planning to spend every waking hour in his company and every sleeping one in his arms, and he wanted to send her away. What was wrong with him?

"Fit…"

"You can meet the Gardiners there," he suggested, "I am sure that you miss them dreadfully. And if you wish," he went on without looking at her as he poured himself more tea, "you can go on to Hertfordshire for some days, or as many as you like. You do have to congratulate Miss Bennet and Bingley for their engagement."

"Yes, but…"

"And the Barringtons would also be traveling to town in a while," he said as if she was incomplete without the Barringtons, "that ought to keep you quite entertained there."

"And you?" She asked in a quiet voice, her eyes fixed on his until he averted them.

"I shall join you whenever you need me to," he said evasively.

"Look at me," she grabbed his hand for the third time and stood up as she stepped towards him, "why have you made this plan?"

"Because I cannot see you day in and day out and not _be_ with you," he looked up at her with a pained countenance, the redness of his eyes more pronounced at close quarters. "You need time, you can have all the time in the world," he stood up to his full height, "just do not spend it in front of my eyes, for it is too much for me especially now that I have had a taste of what it is like to be with you."

"What if I do not want to wait anymore?" She looked up at him and her heart melted. He wanted her so much that he was willing to send her away for he did not trust himself around her; where else was she going to find such an honest passion in a man?

He kept staring at her, his eyes becoming darker with every passing moment.

"Please do not tease me," he breathed deeply, "not in this."

"But that is what I have been endeavoring to tell you ever since you entered the room," she stepped closer. Elizabeth's heart was beating wildly, for she knew how he would react once the next words were out of her mouth. "I do not want to wait anymore," her hand reached and touched his cheek lightly, "I am ready to…uh…um," her eyes fell at what she was about to say, "I am ready for you," she whispered and immediately his hands were on her shoulders.

"Say it again," there was a catch in his voice.

"No," she looked up and saw his eyes shining at her, "you should have listened carefully the first time I said it," she teased.

His hands slipped down her arms and caught her hands as he brought them up and held them to his eyes. She was touched by his gesture.

"You are so generous Elizabeth," he said after a moment, "but I do not want to hasten you into something that you are not prepared for." He removed her hands from his eyes and looked at her with his own, ablaze with a new emotion. "You must think me a beast who thinks of nothing but _this,_ but I assure you that it is not so."

"Fine," she wrenched her hands out of his. _'What an infuriating man he is,' _she thought in exasperation and turned her back to him. "I came to you in all sincerity," Elizabeth said hotly, "but if you have no mind t…ah." An involuntary moan escaped her mouth as his lips touched her bruise and his hands firmly grasped her shoulders.

"I am sorry," he kissed her there again, softly. Her skin tingled pleasantly as warmth spread through her body.

"For what?" she rested her head on his shoulder and looked up at him dreamily.

"I am the insect that gave you this bruise," he admitted blushing lightly.

"What?" she chuckled at his look and his words, "how could you have…"

And then she realized as she remembered the manner in which he had kissed her on the neck last night. It could not exactly be called a kiss for his mouth was open. She frowned; _'come to think of it, Fitzwilliam probably does not set much store by closed mouth kisses,' _she thought, for all his kisses had been warm and moist and magical and melting and…she found herself swiftly turned around in his arms.

"Kiss me," he breathed on her lips and the fire slowly started to burn inside her, "kiss me, Elizabeth," there lips were almost touching now. "I have spent the whole of last night dreaming of your kisses."

"I thought you did not sleep last night," she wanted to sound teasing but voice came all hoarse and husky.

"I know a way to put an end to your teasing," he said pointedly looking at her lips, "but let me do this formally first," he raised his eyes, now almost black with desire, to hers and took a deep breath and rested one of his hands behind her neck. "May I come to your room tonight?"

"You may," she giggled nervously at the gravity of his tone, "but please do not be too serious."

"Oh I take this very seriously, I assure you," he pulled her closer. "Would you kiss me the way I taught you last night, when I come to you tonight?" His lips were close, very close.

"Only if you keep your eyes closed," she raised her hand and placed it on his eyes and then moved again and brushed her lips against his.

But she was inexperienced and Darcy soon took over the kiss as his lips tenderly nudged hers open. _'Really, the man cannot keep his mouth closed,' _she thought before losing all sense in the pleasure of the kiss.

"Would you let me see you tonight?" He whispered between kisses that were slowly turning too intense for something that should be carried out in broad daylight and in a room as public as the dining room, "feel you?"

"If the lamps are turned out," she knew that she was crimson by now but his words were even more provocative than his touch.

"So many conditions," he complained as his lips landed on her chin and slowly started to move down.

"You can also have conditions," she pushed him away in an effort to regain her breath.

"You probably would not be able to handle my conditions," he pulled her back into his arms.

"Are you trying to force my hand by goading me?" She looked impishly up at him.

"Yes," he tried to kiss her but she pulled away again.

"You have no idea how to go about this goading business, have you Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth looked at his flustered countenance and chuckled softly.

"I am learning," he gave up and rested his back at the back of a chair, "you madam, however, are a through proficient at provoking me."

"Only because you are always rather too eager to get provoked," she chuckled at his martyred expression.

"Elizabeth," he suddenly seemed struck by some thought, "perhaps you should have a talk with Anne before she leaves." He fingered the loose curl at her neck, "about…ahem…about the…err…marital duties." He finished hesitantly as he looked warily at her.

Elizabeth flushed red. He was right and though it would be extremely embarrassing to go and ask Anne about something that should only ever be discussed between a husband and wife, it was somewhat necessary as well. She kept her eyes averted as his fingers traced down her neck and her mind went, once again, to the happenings of the previous night. She might be naïve when it came to the 'marital duties' but she was not stupid. Though nothing happened beyond a few heated kisses, Elizabeth had felt _things_ that had given her a slight if not clear idea of what Anne was going to say. She blushed crimson once again as he tipped her chin up and looked down into her eyes.

"Why the frown?" He looked quizzically at her, "I thought it scared weak hearted people away."

"When sported by you," she corrected, trying not to think of her surmise of what was to come, for if true, she would also had to concede to Lady Catherine's verdict of the activity being _'bizarre'_.

"Are you always going to remain this red as long as I keep touching you?" He bent down and whispered in her ear, his arms still around her, "or will I get to see you in your natural creamy colouring sometime soon?"

She looked up and saw a smile on his face. Oh how she loved him. Elizabeth stood on her toes and brushed her lips against his cheek. He sucked in a hasty breath before holding her face in his hands and kissing her softly on the mouth.

Elizabeth dimly registered a door opening and closing and then the sound of a startled gasp. She and Darcy looked hazily towards the door and found a dumbfounded Georgiana looking at them in shock.

"It is the third time in less than a day that someone has interrupted us," Darcy whispered before stepping away and trying not to look too embarrassed, trying not to look too red was not in his control.

"Gina," Elizabeth croaked, knowing that Darcy would not be getting his wish to see her 'natural creamy colouring' anytime soon.

"I apologize," Georgiana could scarce meet their eyes, "I only…," she held out a letter for Darcy from her place by the door, "there's an urgent missive for you from Matlock."

Darcy reluctantly stepped away from Elizabeth and towards Georgiana, took the letter and without any parting look exited the room hastily. It was then that the girls began to giggle and came close together and held each other's hands.

"I am sorry you had to see this," Elizabeth smiled broadly at Georgiana who was still a little flushed at catching her brother with his wife.

"I am sorry to interrupt," she said softly but then grinned happily, "but I am happy…for you, so truly happy, Elizabeth."

"I feel as though I am where I belong after a long time, Gina," Elizabeth said contently and she meant every word, "after such a long time."

"And so you are," Georgiana smiled, "I think that it would be better for all of us if I left sooner than I had planned," she teased and Elizabeth laughed out loud, a tinkering sound of true happiness.

* * *

Darcy took hesitant steps towards Elizabeth's room after looking for her everywhere else in the house. He had woken up frustrated with Elizabeth, but more so with himself, for not understanding the real cause of his dissatisfaction earlier. It was because he had started to feel too deeply for her, it was impossible not to realize that after holding her in his arms on the previous night. He did not, nay could not just be lusting after her, this emotion ran deeper much deeper that a desire to simply claim her body.

Darcy stood outside her door and gulped, still debating if he should tell her or simply make up a story. But the truth was that he did not want to lie to her about anything, even to spare her feelings. She was his wife, she deserved to know what he was about to do and he trusted her to understand, did he not? He sighed, this was hopeless. What if he told her and she did not understand? What if she thought he still did not trust her, because he did.

Though he still did not know the particulars of what she was doing in the Netherfield library, he was sure that it must be something significant that had taken her there, and he was also sure that whatever happened that night could not, in any manner, have been consensual. And though it bothered him at times that he did not know, he was sure that whenever he and Elizabeth were ready, they shall discuss it and then all will be well. He trusted her enough now, to know that she could not have done anything remiss, he respected her judgment enough to know that she could not possibly have been doing what he had initially thought her to be doing, at the Netherfield library.

And though he wanted, very much, to show her by his every action that he trusted her completely, he was afraid that his upcoming conduct would belie his intentions. Darcy braced himself and knocked firmly on her door, there was no response, he knocked again and again, but there was still no response. He softly turned the knob and stepped inside, vague recollections of having done something on the same lines while drunk came to him but he ignored them. More important things were at stake.

Immediately after closing the door, his eyes fell on Elizabeth as she slept on the couch, her arms folded on her chest. The weather had grown quite cold after the rain that had started on the previous night and still had not let up. He walked up to the bed and picked up a blanket and then gently draped it around her.

"Fitzwilliam," her eyes jerked open as she quickly sat up, "oh," she rubbed her eyes, "I do not know when I drifted off," she said slowly and then looked at him with drowsy eyes. "I only meant to freshen up for lunch after Lady Catherine and the Fitzwilliams left but," she shrugged and smiled, "I suppose last night's shenanigans had me more tired than I thought."

"That is quite all right," he said gently as he again draped her carefully in the blanket, "I hope you did not mind me entering without being bid to first?" He asked as he tried to gauge her mood. She shook her head and then looked at him in slight confusion.

"But…err…I…ahem…thought you would be coming…ahem…in the night," she said haltingly as a light pink hue covered her cheeks.

Darcy closed his eyes in exasperation. The night that was going to be the most beautiful in his life would have to wait because this night that was to come was going to be the most difficult of his life.

"About that," he slipped closer towards her as his hand rested on her neck and his thumb traced her cheek. _'How can I leave her now?' _Darcy groaned inwardly. "I have just been called to Matlock, something urgent has come up."

"Oh," she looked thoroughly disappointed, "when will you leave?"

"Right now," he pulled her towards him and the blanket slipped down her shoulders. Darcy placed a lingering kiss on her forehead and then placed his own on hers. "You do not mind, do you?"

"No," she said thoughtfully and then perked up, "can I not come with you, Fitzwilliam?"

Darcy's head dipped further as his lips briefly touched her soft, appealing ones. How wonderful his name sounded on her lips.

"No, my sweet," he kissed her lips once and then was unable to let go, "sweet, sweet," he kissed her there again, "Elizabeth. Not this time."

"So it shall be only me and Georgiana here?" She pouted against his lips and Darcy was tempted to give in and stay, forget what awaited him at Matlock, forget what was happening in the world and simply take his wife in his arms and kiss her senseless. But her words brought him back to the reality as well.

"No," he pulled back, his hands falling down into his lap, "Gina is coming with me as well."

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed as she raised an eyebrow at him. It was time to tell her why he was going there in such a hurry.

"It is George," he averted his eyes, "he came to Matlock, yesterday."

"So?" She asked in a hard voice, "why should it matter where he is?"

"The Earl wants me to meet him," Darcy looked up and saw her disappointment in him on her face, in her eyes and he winced. "He wants us to resolve our problems."

"And how does he propose you do it?" She moved away from him as the blanket fell to their feet, "by inviting him to live at Pemberley?" Her voice dripped of sarcasm.

"No," Darcy said with feeling as he tried to catch her hand but she abruptly stood up and stepped away from the couch, "if there is one house that George will never be welcome at, it is ours Elizabeth. Surely you must know that."

"Should I?" She raised her eyebrows at him, "you are running off to meet him as soon as he comes close enough, forgetting all that he did, forgetting all that we had to suffer because of his petty jealousies and silly schemes of revenge."

"I am not going there to reconcile with him," Darcy stood up and faced her squarely, "but sooner or later we had to meet, so why not now when he has come here on the express purpose to meet me and clarify."

"Clarify what?" She spat out as her eyes flashed in anger at him, "can he clarify what he did to me in the library and afterwards? I do not think so, nor do I need any clarifications," and then she looked at him in disbelief as she took a step back, "but perhaps you do."

"What?" Darcy looked at her, befuddled, "no," he cried as he once again tried to capture her hand but failed. This was going exactly as he had feared, "I do not need any elucidation where you are concerned Elizabeth, you of all people should know this by now."

"Should I?" She still seemed angry, "then prove it." She looked at him in challenge. "Do not go," her voice became eerily quiet. He could not decide if she was asking him or ordering him not to go, either way, he would have to decline.

"I have to," he looked helplessly at her, "please you must understand that I need to finish this once and for all."

He needed to meet George one last time, to tell him what a rascal he was, to instill in him that he would never be able to ingratiate himself into their lives again, to warn him not to come near Elizabeth. He needed to show George exactly what the other Darcys thought of him.

"Finish it?" She looked coldly at him from a distance, "I thought everything between you was finished on our wedding day. Have you forgotten what he did?" She asked vehemently as she took one agitated step towards him, "how he risked the reputation of both our families, not once but twice in a month? He made us get married without any love for each other, because he knew that we would be miserable with together."

Her last sentence hurt Darcy more than he would ever admit to himself as he stared at her dumbstruck.

"Oh," he said in a slightly raised voice, finally becoming angry, "so you are miserable with me, are you?" She kept staring at him with a narrowed brow, not even bothering to answer. He stepped towards her and grabbed her by the shoulders as he rasped in a low voice, "then it should not matter to you what I do. For if you are determined to be wretched with me in any case, then better I go than stay."

"There is no need to pin this upon me, Mr. Darcy," she placed her hands upon his on her shoulders, "you are the one determined to hurt me by running into the arms of your brother, a brother who has already done irreparable damage to my self-respect, my relationship with my family and is now destroying whatever little progress _we _had made in the past weeks." She pushed his hands off her arms with force as they stared at each other quite in the manner in which they had in the earlier days of their marriage.

"Little progress?" He asked in dejection, "you call this little progress?"

"Yes, I call this little progress," she said adamantly, "for if you cannot believe me still and are going to the brother who deceived us all, horribly, for the verification of the events in the past than I say that the progress has only been purely physical so far," her words were like a knife to Darcy's heart as he stared at her in incredulity, unable to believe his ears. "For where trusting me is concerned, you still seem to be stuck somewhere in our wedding day."

"And what about you madam?" He finally broke under the weight of her accusations, "have you mastered any of your impulses of always attributing the worst possible meaning to my words? It seems as though I am not the only one still _stuck somewhere in our wedding day, _for you have made it abundantly clear just now that you think me only interested in you physically, without any understanding or respect for your mental capabilities whatsoever."

"And I stick to my opinion," she looked at him with challenge in her sparkling amber eyes, "unless proven to err."

"I am tired of trying to prove you wrong," he raked a hand through his hair, "no mat…"

"Exactly when have you tried, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth suddenly seemed sad, "when you told me that I had made a play for the younger son but got the older one instead? Or was it when you accused me of flirting with Lord Barrington?"

"Stop hampering upon my mistakes Elizabeth," he said in exasperation, "do you not see that I have been trying to overcome them? Have you seen no change in my behaviour since our wedding day."

"I have," she admitted as she still eyed him with melancholy, "quite a lot actually. But sadly, now it seems as though all of it was to get near me physically and none of it had anything to do with who I am."

"That is quite enough of your accusations," he suddenly held up his hand to silence her, "you have made your meaning and your opinion of me perfectly clear." Darcy turned on his heels and made his way to the door as he said, "We can have nothing more to say to each other. I shall be leaving now and will try to be back by tomorrow afternoon," he turned towards her as he placed his hand on the handle, "not that you would be waiting for me."

It seemed as though she was about to say something but then she changed her mind and turned her back to him. There was nothing left to say or do after that, so he exited the room with a heavy heart and prepared for the journey ahead.

* * *

Elizabeth watched the carriage move away from the house and she almost screamed with frustration. _'Why would he go, after all I said?' _She had meant nothing by her obviously incorrect statements, her only object was to make him stay with her and not saunter off to his snake of a brother. She was almost afraid of what poison George would sprout into Darcy's ears, she was afraid that he would turn him against her, she was afraid that he would ruin her happiness just like he had been doing ever since she had laid eyes on him.

She had goaded Darcy into staying, but perhaps she had gone too far this time. Elizabeth closed her eyes at the thought of Darcy's hurt expression when she had accused him of only being interested in her physically. _'Oh darling,' _she thought sadly, _'I did not mean a word f it.'_

Romeo kept circling her feet as he limped. She stooped down and picked it up, it was going to be a long cold night and she only had her small and sweet puppy to keep her company, for her tall and dour husband had just left in an angry huff. She went to the library since the rain had made it impossible to go out for some exercise. Everywhere she stepped, Darcy's reflection taunted her; in the corridor as he ran after her, on the stairs as he pulled her into his arms and finally in the library as she slept on his shoulder.

Elizabeth spent the rest of the day in the library as she flitted across shelves, missing him hopelessly, wishing he had not gone, hating George for again creating a rift between them. But then she sighed, it was, after all, because of George that she was with Darcy in the first place, his vicious maneuvers were what had brought her to the only man that she could ever love.

It was true that living with him had given her an insight into what kind of a man he really was, exactly the kind that she could love, and the fact that he was the only man that she could think of herself to be with, was also utterly obvious. She would have loved him no matter what; Elizabeth ran her hand along the spines of the neatly stacked books, she would have loved him even if she had married George. She blushed at such shameless thoughts but there it was, he was the only man who had captured her imagination and her heart.

The day changed into night and Elizabeth did not quit the library. She only went down for dinner for a while and then came back after changing into her night clothes as she picked up a volume without even registering what it was. He would not be back till the next day and the empty room, strangely, made her miss him more than she could bear. She sighed and settled on the sofa where she had spent a night with Darcy once before, the night was endless, as were her thoughts and her love.

* * *

Darcy looked towards the pensive face of Georgiana, as she sat opposite him in the fast moving carriage to Matlock, and his anger started to rise again. But his anger was not for his sister, nor was it, for a change, due to his brother, it was for his wife who had simply dismissed him without even bothering to listen to what he had to say. _'Typical __Elizabeth__,' _he huffed. It had always been Elizabeth's habit to jump to conclusions about him, no wonder she assumed that if he was going off to meet George, it was only because he wanted him to either confirm, or deny his suspicions about Elizabeth.

Darcy was fed up with the constant back and forth between him and Elizabeth; he was at a point now from where he did not even want to take a breath back, let alone a step. He only wanted to go towards Elizabeth and continue with his life with her. He stared outside at the falling rain with the picture of her flashing eyes and flushed countenance on his mind and suddenly all the anger went out of him. He simply wanted to be with her, to prove to her how much he trusted her, how much he **loved **her. He took a hasty breath in as he sat up straight.

_'Of course,' _he thought as his eyes widened a bit, _'it is love.' _The soft yet intense emotion slowly building up inside him for his temperamental wife, _his Elizabeth, _was love. The yearning to be near her, the pleasure at her presence, the excitement every time they argued and the peace every time they reconciled, it was all because of love. That was why he had felt so wounded when she had implied that that they were miserable after marriage, and that was why he had felt so angry when she had said that whatever little progress they had made was purely physical.

He looked down at his hands to hide the colour in his face from Georgiana, not that she was noticing. Yes the physical attraction could not be denied, but wanting Elizabeth did not mean that he did not appreciate other qualities in her. Indeed it was the other aspects of her personality, her honour, her integrity, her sense of right that had made him fall so hopelessly in love with her. Desire, though a part, did not embody the depth of his emotion for Elizabeth.

Unconsciously, a soft smile formed on his usually unsmiling face. She drove him crazy with her silly arguments, untimely temper flares and unexpected bouts of kindness and he loved her for all of that. It was most surprising how this had escaped him so far. Darcy sighed and looked up as he stared at the plush velvet upholstery in front of him; perhaps the fault lay with him. He had spent too much time trying to decipher the mystery of the Netherfield library, instead of solving that of his own heart and that was why it was only a few moments ago that he had realized that Elizabeth was far more important than the silly doubts that he had harboured in the past. _She _mattered; _the doubts _did not, not one bit.

"What shall you say to him, William?" Georgiana's soft voice brought him out of his pleasant thoughts of why Elizabeth was the most important person in his life.

Immediately his face hardened, _'George,' _he seethed inwardly, not wanting to alarm Georgiana. He had every intention of keeping his promise to Elizabeth, that of breaking his nose. Even though Darcy understood the necessity of this meeting with his brother, it could not have come at a more inopportune time. He and Elizabeth were growing by leaps and bounds in their relationship and he simply had to come and push them back to where they had started from.

"I hardly know," he said truthfully as he looked at Georgiana's pensive face, "to be honest, I do not think that it is up to me to forgive him. It is Elizabeth whose forgiveness George must acquire."

"But that is impossible," Georgiana said indignantly, "Elizabeth could not, should not forgive him."

"Exactly," Darcy agreed as the carriage entered the outskirts of the Matlock estate, "and until she does not, I cannot either."

"I understand," Georgiana agreed, "but…"

"Gina, dearest," Darcy bent towards her and took her hand in his, "we are all individuals with our own set of choices. You would soon be out in the world making yours. Please do not, for even a moment think that I would ever try to impose my will upon you. If you want to spend time, communicate and correspond with George, you have every right to for he is your brother as well. But I hope you would understand my apprehension in trusting him with you."

"Of course, William," she smiled through teary eyes, "and though the choice of having any further contact with him rests with me, in a way it was taken away on your wedding day. How can I choose to trust someone who so blatantly worked to hurt the one's closest to him?"

"Let us listen to him first," Darcy patted her hand reassuringly as the carriage came to a halt outside the Matlock House, "and then decide how he is to be dealt with."

* * *

"I do see the necessity of meeting him, Uncle," Darcy's jaw was set as he squarely faced the Earl of Matlock, "but not that of forgiving or even reconciling with him."

"When you will reach my age, dear boy," he said weakly from his perch by the window on a comfortable chair with a blanket wrapped around his legs, "you will know the importance of family, even the undesirable members."

"I beg your pardon, my lord," Darcy remained adamant, "but I do understand the importance of family but does George? Does he know the enormity of his folly or repent the fickleness of his actions? You are preaching to the wrong brother," his voice was hard and unrelenting, "for in this, I shall not leave an inch."

"Fine," he said as he turned his eyes away from Darcy and stared outside at the falling rain, "be adamant if it pleases you and now go and talk to him. He is waiting for you and Georgiana in my study."

Darcy gave a stiff bow and then walked out of the room, proceeding directly towards his uncle's study. He had thought himself to be ready, willing to see George and be done with him but as the time drew nearer, his feet felt heavy. Many a time he had been angry at George in the past, but never had it come to such am impasse from where he had no choice but to be a stranger to his brother. He took a deep breath and braced himself before entering his uncle's study; if only life was not this difficult.

Darcy entered and his eyes fell on the sad blue ones of his brother's.

"William," George said without getting up from where he sat on a sofa.

"George," Darcy said in a curt manner, looking down at him sternly.

He was the same golden brother that he had always loved and tried to protect and keep on a straight course, and yet something had changed. Darcy looked penetratingly at George as he sat slumped in the sofa with a glass of port in his hand. He seemed weak as though he had been either ill or suffering, his eyes that were always full of mirth, at someone or another's expense, seemed dull and lifeless, his complexion had lost its brilliancy as though he had been spending too much time indoors.

"Why have you come here, George?" Darcy asked as he tried to deduce the reason behind the dark circles around George's eyes.

"Has Gina not come with you?" He asked in a dull voice as he looked at him in disappointment.

"She has," Darcy said firmly from his post in the centre of the room, "but I thought that the first few moments of this meeting should only be between the two of us." His intense grey eyes bored down into his brother's. "I dare say she would be here presently."

"That was wise," George nodded as he placed the glass on the table after taking one last swig.

"Cut the small talk, George," Darcy said sternly, "what do you want?" He stared straight into George's dull blue eyes.

"Forgiveness," George whispered as he sat up a little without making any move to get up.

"Do you honestly think that you deserve it?" A few days ago Darcy had asked for Elizabeth's forgiveness in the flower garden at Pemberly and she had replied with the same question.

"No," George turned his head away as he stared at the painting of the old Matlock House on a wall. Darcy's answer to Elizabeth had also been the same, but the next words that came out of his mouth were not the one's she had used.

"And so you shan't," Darcy shrugged and George turned his eyes back towards him.

"I am sorry, William," for the first time that day Darcy could spot some animation in his speech, "I was wrong, horribly so," he bent forward, "I should never have listened to Farns…"

"You are not a child, George," Darcy cried as he took a step towards George, "stop blaming your own mistakes on other people. Farnsworth might have advised you to do certain things but the choice of acting on that advice was solely yours."

"Yes," George conceded, "and I did want to turn things around but by then it was too late, the invitations had been sent and the license acquired. None of this has brought me any pleasure William."

"I was your brother George," Darcy said in anguish, "how could you be so immune to every feeling of family solidarity to put me in such a desperate position?" George visibly winced.

"I have repented my actions every day, William," He bent towards him with a pleading look on his face, "I have since come to realize who my true friends are."

"And Elizabeth?" Darcy was barely even listening to George now, "what on Earth could prompt you to act so heartlessly towards an innocent, someone who never hurt you for even a moment? I can understand that you had some issues with me for which you wanted to get even, but what had she done to drive you towards such a stroke of vengeance?"

Darcy could see a slight widening of George's eyes in surprise before defeat clouded them.

"I suppose I never forgot her slap," he said dejectedly as his shoulders slumped, "it still rings in my ears and burns on my face sometimes," he said morosely, "but now the only emotion it evokes is remorse."

Darcy stared at him in astonishment. _'A slap?' _He thought in utter confusion.

"What slap?" He blurted out, looking at his brother in shock mixed with apprehension for what was to come next.

George's head shot up sharply.

"You do not know?" He asked with equally wide eyes, "did she never tell you how it all started?"

Darcy kept looking at him in confusion, that Elizabeth had slapped George was astounding but still more shocking was the fact that he did not know about it after all these months.

"Tell me," he said tonelessly.

George's faced clouded over once again as he stared at something behind Darcy's shoulder.

"Do you remember the conversation between me and Hurst in the billiards room at Netherfield that you overheard?" George asked after a silence of a few moments.

Darcy's jaw clenched involuntarily. How could he forget the careless banter between those two? It had been strange to hear his brother talk like an immoral person but an eye-opener as well, though it failed to open his eyes completely.

"She overheard it as well," George watched the play of emotion on his face for a moment and then blurted out.

Darcy's eyes widened. He remembered colliding with her on his way up the stairs and then down and she had seemed quite agitated as she had quickly walked past him, mumbling some excuse about not feeling too well. He stood up and started to pace in the room; the next day he had heard raised voices coming from behind the writing room's door before Elizabeth had stepped out looking extremely tense while George had sat inside with a flushed countenance. _'Could that be when it happened?' _He thought as he came to a sudden halt in front of George.

"In the writing room?" He asked as he scowled at George and George nodded weekly.

"It was not her fault," he admitted with a resigned sigh, as if he had made the decision to reveal everything to Darcy, "I provoked her. But I did not realize my share in the whole mess at that time. Like the cad that I am," he laughed a derisive laugh, "I blamed it all on her, consoling myself with excuses such as _she deserves it."_

Darcy lurched towards George and grabbed him by his collar pulling him up to a standing position.

"What did you do to her, George?" He yelled, "what did you do?"

George went pale as he looked towards him helplessly, as though begging him not to ask. Darcy's hold strengthened around his neck.

"At the Netherfield ball," George said in a low voice, "I maneuvered such that she ended up drinking the glass of lemonade that I had tampered with. As a result she went to the library, because she was probably not feeling too well and I followed her there."

Darcy was breathing raggedly now. Out of all the theories that he had conjured up in Elizabeth's defense, none had included her being drugged. It was so unbelievable in his mind that his grip went lax on George.

"She stood there," George whispered in broken accents, "she simply stood there, because she did not have the strength to retaliate. Poor child," he choked out as Darcy took a step back from him as if burned, "she had no idea what I had plotted for her." He placed a hand on Darcy's shoulder to steady himself but Darcy simply stared at him, without realizing that he had become an inadvertent support for the man responsible for all the problems in his wife's life. "My plan was for Mrs. Bennet to see us together and rattle it on to everyone present at the ball, thereby ruining her reputation. Of course, I had planned to deny everything," he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, leaning more on Darcy now, "but nothing happened the way I had thought it would, my own heart refused to comply."

"Your heart?" Darcy grabbed him by his shoulders and shook him, "do not talk of hearts George, for you have none to talk about."

"I do," he cried back, "but no one has ever tried to…"

"Shut the hell up," Darcy yelled even louder and pushed him back on the sofa with force. He saw George wince in pain as he raised his fist to punch him in the face when suddenly the door opened and Georgiana entered. Darcy's hand dropped by his side as he looked at her as if in a dream. The only thing on his mind was Elizabeth's pain and the fact that though not the source, he was the reason behind much of it.

* * *

"Do you think he'll ever forgive me, Gina?" He looked towards his mild mannered sister who sat in front of him with a hard face.

Darcy had just left a few moments ago, despite Gina begging him not to travel in the rain and the night. George had seen his decision on his face, he wanted to be with his wife and nothing was going to stop him. He sighed and fingered his stick.

"Does it hurt?" Georgiana did not answer him, but asked another question instead.

It had hurt, like hell, when he had fallen down the stairs of Pexley Manor. He had rolled down them in a half conscious state, some of it because of the obscene amount of liquor that he had imbibed and some of it because of the banister that his head had hit against before falling. And all the while his friend, his only remaining friend, had stood at the top of the stairs looking down at him without moving even an inch to help him and really, why would he? After all it was Baron Farnsworth himself who had given him the push.

"Yes," he nodded, "but not as much as it did in the beginning."

For the first few days, as he had flitted in and out of consciousness, his leg had hurt something awful and his head had been worse, but then the pain subsided and he quickly traveled on to Krenmoral, despite the doctor's orders. Staying at Pexley was not an option anymore, watching Farnsworth everyday as he came to check in on him like a dutiful brother was unbearable, he had wanted his real brother then, he had wanted the strength of William and the compassion of Georgiana.

"Why did you not tell me in your letters that you were injured?" She asked again with a slight softening of her face.

"I did not want to be more of a nuisance than I already had been," he shrugged lightly as it thundered outside.

The fracture in his leg had gotten worse on the journey from Pexley to Krenmoral and after a fortnight when the doctor had told him that it was mending but on a wrong angle, George had cried finally. The extent of his wrongdoings was what had brought him to the point where he stood alone and on only one leg. He would sit on the balcony of his room for hours pondering about Elizabeth, William, Georgiana and his heinous conduct against them and no excuse that he came up with could vindicate him.

"And now?" She asked pointedly, her soft blue eyes suddenly becoming unyielding like William's.

"And now I wait," his head dropped down to his hands. A maid entered and served them tea.

After wallowing in misery for a week, he had finally asked for advice on how to run the estate from his uncle and with the help of a very able Mr. Jennings, had started on a course, that he had never thought, was cut out for him. Slowly, the local families had started to send invitations and he had begun receiving some gentlemen at his home also. George had always liked people, gatherings were where his personality had shined in the past, but it was different now.

"Do you not think that your decision to get married is rather hasty," Georgiana changed the subject as she delicately sipped her tea, "on such a short acquaintance?"

"I do not think that I could have found a better woman, had I gone to the ends of the world in search of one," he said firmly, "she understands me like no one ever has before and accepts me with all my faults. Honestly Gina, I could not have asked for a better life partner."

It was at one of the local gatherings that he had first met Miss Augusta Ashdown. She was the only daughter of a local gentleman of good breeding and a decent family background. Miss Ashdown had immediately caught his attention because of a striking similarity in the manner of her conversation, to Elizabeth. With a medium height and a buxom figure, Miss Ashdown was as much an opposite of the lithe Elizabeth Darcy as one could be, but when it came to leaving your opponent without an answer, she was quite on par with the only woman George had ever loved. Miss Ashdown had not paid him much attention in the beginning, for being an avid dancer, she had no patience with cripples like him. But after a game of cards over a scrumptious dinner at Krenmoral Abbey, she had started to slowly gravitate towards him.

"Perhaps not," Georgiana looked thoughtfully at him, "but do you love her and does she love you?"

"Not all matches are made out of love, dearest," he said dejectedly, "she suits me and does not mind me being a cripple. Right now, that is all I ask for."

At first he had been startled by the amount of interest she showed in him, but then he began enjoying her company, her eccentric views and extreme opinions, it was as if she was Elizabeth, except more considerate and attentive. And then a week ago, he decided that he needed her presence in his life, that he needed a family of his own since the one he had, had disowned him. And so he had proposed, and she had accepted and with such pleasure that for a few blissful moments, George had forgotten the burden of guilt that he carried around.

"But George," Georgiana bent forward a little, "have you forgotten…err…everything."

George knew what she meant and the answer was _no. _He had not, could not, ever forget Elizabeth with her flashing eyes and her pearly smile, head tilted to a side as she teased and argued. No he had not forgotten anything about her, he had not forgotten her loyalty to her family as she had acceded to her father's decision of marrying him, he had not forgotten her compassion towards her sister when she was sick and he had definitely not forgotten her eyes as they had stared at him, blamed him, hated him. She was the first woman to ever stir the passion that had laid dormant inside him heretofore, the first woman to make him believe in the purity and innocence of a person, the only woman who had come close enough to touch his heart.

"Some day I will, Gina," he smiled a tired smile that bespoke of his internal struggles, "Augusta shall help me."

"Would she not mind?" Georgiana's eyes widened in surprise.

"She is not without a past either, dearest," he shrugged, "we have both hidden nothing from each other. I wanted to step into this new relationship with a conscience though not clear, at least released from the burden of lies and deceit."

"Oh why could you not have realized all your mistakes sooner?" She said in frustration, "why has it taken you a leg and a brother to appreciate the value of the things that you have lost?"

"This is the way it was meant to be," he stared into nothingness once again, "tell me," he looked up suddenly and his eyes fell on Georgiana, "is she…happy with William?"

For some reason Georgiana's face reddened as she pursed her lips to hide a smile. George looked at her in some confusion, trying to decipher the meaning of her reaction.

"She…ahem…they are quite in love, George," she smiled contentedly, "though they do argue a lot."

Something broke inside him. He had assured himself that it was only Elizabeth and William's happiness that he required to finally be at peace with himself, but the revelation of just such an occurrence did not bring any peace with it, just hollowness.

"Oh?" Of course Elizabeth would argue with even the air and William was also rather too apt at getting the last word. Unknowingly, George had brought two people together who were perfect for each other.

"Oh yes," Georgiana's mood suddenly seemed lightened, "you should see them together. William could barely contain his jealousy of Lord Barrington when he was staying with us, for he paid Elizabeth an excessive amount of attention. I am amazed that he did not call him out." She chuckled at some memory and George smiled despite himself.

"And Elizabeth?" He asked carefully, trying not to sound too obviously interested in her reaction to William.

"In the beginning she was a bit sad," Georgiana said thoughtfully but then her face cleared, "but then she warmed up to William. One can really see the love in her eyes every time she looks at him. It is palpable." She went on without noticing the pallor on his face. "They laugh together, dance together, chase each other in the corridors of Pemberley past midnight. Her presence makes William's demeanor light, and it has definitely brought so much love and laughter to Pemberley. It feels like more of a home with Elizabeth there."

"I am glad," he said weakly and in a way he was.

He had seen William's love for Elizabeth in his eyes and had seen Elizabeth's for him through Georgiana's eyes and it was fine. Some day, perhaps he would see it with his own eyes as well, if they ever decided to forgive him. Till then he must prepare himself for the moment that will bring him heartbreak like none else ever had. He must be strong before he finally came face to face with them, together.

"I wish you would be happy with Miss Ashdown as well," she smiled at him at last, "I promise to arrive a few days before the wedding, but do not ask me to come right now, George." She looked sadly towards him, "not just yet."

George stood up and limped with the help of his stick towards her as he placed his shaking hand on her head.

"Even that would be more than what I deserve," he said haltingly, "but I truly wish for you to like and get along with Augusta. She is no Elizabeth," he smiled forlornly, "but she is very special to me."

"Then she would be special to me as well," Georgiana smiled affectionately at him, "and I hope that she would make you just as happy as Elizabeth has William." She bit her lip as soon as the words were out of her mouth, probably realizing that these were not the ideal words to say to him but George patted her head consolingly.

He deserved it, every bit of it.

* * *

When Darcy finally arrived at Pemberley, it was well past midnight. His feet, though tired, took him up to his rooms quickly. It was empty. He knocked on the connecting door but there was no response. Darcy took a deep breath and opened it, it was not locked. He peeped through and frowned; Elizabeth's room was empty, the bed not slept in.

"Your bath is ready sir," Smyth's staid voice announced and Darcy closed the adjoining door with an audible and disappointed thud.

The travel to and from Matlock in wet weather had left him in no state to meet and _greet _a lady. He stripped off the clothes and stepped into the warm bath, though at such short notice and relatively cooler climate, it was not as warm as he would have liked it to be. As he scrubbed himself in the lukewarm water, all he could think of was the strange day that had just passed.

The memory of Elizabeth's sweet response to him on the previous night somehow got overshadowed by his anger at George and his remorse at his own treatment of her. Darcy simply could not wait to tell Elizabeth about how he felt, how much he regretted his behaviour and how much he valued her. He sighed; though Elizabeth was at the forefront of his thoughts, George also was not far.

He walked towards his room after slipping into his bath robe. The sight of George as he had taken the few limping steps towards Georgiana had shaken him to the core. He absently got into his night dress and robe and tied the belt around himself. He had felt horrified at the sight of George's lopsided gate, as all thought of anger or retribution had fled his mind. It was not required anymore; fates had done it for him.

Darcy dismissed his valet and hurriedly walked out of his room wondering where to begin his search for Elizabeth. _'Would she still be angry at me?' _He wondered as he climbed the stairs towards the library. _'I would apologize and do away with all her grievances,' _he decided firmly, _'I shall not let anything come between us now.' _Darcy was determined. He entered the library and looked around, it seemed to be empty.

"Elizabeth," he called out in desperation as his eyes searched the dimly lit, large space for the face most beloved to him.

"Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth's breathless voice immediately drew his attention towards the entrance to the rotunda.

There she was standing in all her beauty, an expression of delighted surprise rendering her features even more handsome than he remembered. For a moment they simply stared at each other and then in a few quick steps, they met half way.

"Fitzwilliam," she said again as Darcy's arms went around her in a possessive grip, "I had hoped that you would come tonight but…"

He was hardly listening to what she was saying as his eyes drank her much-loved face in. She seemed agitated but happy as she relaxed into his embrace, her soft hands reaching up to sit upon his shoulders. He wondered how she would react if he told her all that was in his heart? There was only one way to find out.

"I love you," his hand reached up to cup her cheek as he stated clearly, firmly, lovingly. Elizabeth's eyes widened slightly, as though she was not expecting him to say it just then. Darcy's hand traveled into her soft hair as he further pulled her towards himself, "I love you, Elizabeth," he breathed near her lips, each word sounded caressed.

"And I love you, Fitzwilliam," she uttered softly without breaking contact with his adoring eyes as she pressed herself to him. Darcy's heart thudded wildly in his chest. She had said it; _she had said it,_ SHE LOVED HIM. _'Oh God, she loved him.' _"I love you so very much," she emphasized each word.

And then she touched her lips to his and Darcy felt ablaze. He had not expected this welcome; angry words, feet stomping, keys turning into locks to shut him out, but not this. This warmth that pressed softly to his burning lips, to his chest all the way down to his legs, he had not expected to be loved in return. With a groan he caught her lips in his own as he devoured them feverishly, as though afraid that she would disappear if he did not take his fill.

"You cannot," he breathed as he stared down at her flushed face between his hands, "do you really?"

"Truly," she breathed before submitting to another searing kiss, "truly, oh darling," she rained soft kisses all over his face, "I do so love you." With another groan Darcy buried his face into her shoulder as she clung to him. "I missed you," she whispered near his ear and it was so horribly arousing that Darcy felt embarrassed.

"I could not wait to be with you either," he pulled back and looked into her beautiful amber eyes that shone at him, "you would never be able to stay away from me now, dear wife," his grip increased around her. "You have found yourself one very possessive husband," he breathed before claiming her inviting lips once again.

It was done. Against all odds, they had managed to fall in love with each other.

* * *

It was sometime afterwards that he found himself sitting next to her on a sofa as she sat turned towards him with her legs tucked under her. It reminded him of their wedding night; it was about the same time in the night and it was raining outside quite like that day. But there were no doubts in his mind, no hesitation in his hold around her wrist and only love in his heart.

"I am sorry," he softly touched her cheek with the back of his fingers and her brow furrowed.

"Whatever are you sorry for, Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth took his hand in hers and asked in some confusion.

"For ever doubting you," Darcy averted his eyes, "for the hurtful things that I have said in the past and for what George did."

Her face clouded over. All of it had hurt, his mistrust, his words, and especially the things that he had left unsaid. But all that was behind them now and she was determined not to be miserable about any of it anymore now that she had found the only man that she could ever love.

"And though I completely trust you now, so much of the past unpleasantness could have been avoided if we had sat down and talked it out," Darcy said pulling her closer.

"But would we have believed each other, then?" She asked thoughtfully, allowing herself to be pulled onto his lap. "I would not have been able to bear it if you had not believed my version of the events." She told him truthfully with a slight hardening of her eyes. "This is how it was supposed to happen," Elizabeth took his face into her hands as she ran her thumbs over his cheeks, "we needed to learn to trust each other, to understand each other first."

"I must admit that the fear of your version being unbelievable has kept me from asking you directly about everything," he said honestly enjoying the feel of her soft fingers on his face, "but even that had ceased to be a problem for a while now. It simply did not matter anymore."

"So you were not bothered about not knowing?" Elizabeth asked in some surprise.

"Perhaps a little," he said throwing his head back on the sofa back, "but knowing you made me realize that you can do no wrong and that settled it in my mind." Darcy observed the soft, pleased look on her face with interest as his hands slowly rubbed her arm and back.

"Did he…," she left the question unfinished and Darcy stiffened.

Elizabeth got off his legs and sat slightly away. She had not wanted to discuss the past, but it was necessary.

"Yes," Darcy made no move to bring her closer, "he told me everything. From what you overheard at the billiards room to what happened in the writing room and then the library."

"It was horrible," she said in a small voice, "really horrible," she shuddered.

"And you were alone," he turned towards her then and she looked like a child to him, "I wish I had known the truth then, Elizabeth," he tipped her chin towards him, "I would never have let the events that followed to culminate in this manner."

"But then we would never have married," she said seriously looking at him.

"So perhaps Uncle Edmund was right," he smiled, "whatever happens, happens for the best."

"Indeed," she softly pulled his head onto her lap, "and nothing better comes to my mind in this moment than being with you."

Darcy's hand reached out to caress her face and for a few moments none of them spoke.

"Why had he come?" Elizabeth asked at last.

"George is getting married," Darcy told her and her eyebrows shot up in surprise, "to a Miss Ashdown."

"Really?" Elizabeth could not help but feel surprised at this piece of news.

"He has also lost a leg," Darcy told her and she paled, "he fell from the stairs while at Farnsworth's house." Darcy's voice became tense, "he would never be able to dance, Elizabeth, and George loved to dance."

Elizabeth's hand went into his hair as she slowly stroked his head. She was sorry for George's loss, but he had a life partner to share it with. As far as Elizabeth was concerned, he still had it easy.

"He came to invite us and take Gina with him," Darcy continued in a far-off manner, "for the wedding which is to be in three months."

"Would you go?" She looked guardedly at him.

"No," Darcy said firmly, "I can never put you through it," he looked intently at her, "and as I have already told you, I can never stay away from you now."

She smiled as she tapped his nose.

"Let us not decide anything immediately," her head dipped down towards him, "it is not until three months yet."

Darcy's hand instinctively went into her hair as he pulled her head down and brushed his lips against hers.

"What shall we do then," his asked huskily, "do you have anything in my mind?"

"We can sleep," Elizabeth's heart was beating too fast for coherent thought and so she said the first thing that came to her mind.

Darcy quickly jumped to his feet and pulled her with him.

"An excellent idea," before she could even summon some of her senses, he was leading her out the library, "I knew that you could not be so intelligent for nothing.

"And I knew that you could not be so manipulative for nothing," she teased back as they descended the stairs towards their rooms.

"Contrary to your actual meaning," Darcy slipped a hand behind her back and pulled her to him, "I shall take it as a compliment and you would be amply rewarded for such pleasantries once we are inside our rooms."

"And how would you do that?" Elizabeth looked up at him and his eyes burned down into her.

"You are rather eager tonight, are you not my love?" He swiftly opened her door and entered after her.

"My room?" She looked at him in question as they stood facing each other in the center of it.

"It was closer," he closed all gap between them as his fingers went behind her neck, "and I did not want to waste any more time. Now come closer."

"Is that an order?" She raised an eyebrow as their lips came dangerously close to each other's.

"You talk too much," he breathed as he searched her eyes for the final permission. Elizabeth's arms went around his neck.

"Silence me then."

Eager lips met hungry ones in a passion that had been building up for weeks now, in at least one of them. Small quick kisses quickly turned into feverish, devouring ones that not only posed a serious threat to their respiratory systems but also to their knees and so with mutual consent, the pleasant activity was continued in the bed until Darcy's hand found the string on Elizabeth's night gown and pulled.

"S-stop," she quickly swatted his hand away and placed her own on the slipping garment to stop it from revealing her completely to the impatient eyes of her husband.

"Why?" He growled as he adamantly kissed the hand that covered her shoulder now, "you said that you are ready for me."

"I did not know what I was committing to," she said breathlessly as he moved to cover her neck with moist kisses that completely robbed her of her senses, "umh…Fitzwilliam…no…Fitzwilliam…I…Fitzwilliam?" And she was not allowed to say anything else for the night because her lips were effectively silenced.

* * *

But no matter how efficient a kisser, Darcy was dealing with Elizabeth and she was nothing if not stubborn and it was only on the fourth night after that day that she finally relented.

A near crazed Darcy stood facing a highly amused Elizabeth near his bed.

"So how will this work?" He mocked, "I will pull at the strings of your gown, you would scoot away as if I am a wild animal," Elizabeth by now was laughing pretty heavily, "and then you would promise that on the day that is to come, you would relieve me of my suffering."

"Exactly," she flashed him a rather saucy grin and stepped closer, "in truth I have began to enjoy your suffering, my love."

"And in truth you have really started to annoy me," he pulled her unceremoniously towards himself and kissed her in abandon until both of them could barely breath or keep standing.

Darcy _once again _pulled both the strings of her gown that held it on her shoulders, at once, and looked tentatively at her. His eyes widened at her expression.

"Elizabeth," he breathed, obviously anticipating a severe reaction and not the alluring smile that she was giving him, "are you not going to stop me?" He asked huskily.

"Me?" She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his neck, "stop you?" Her body pressed into his and his hands instinctively went around her tiny waist, "when have I ever done that before?" And that night, she did not stop him, not even once.

* * *

By the time Darcy was through with her, the sun shone brightly outside on the Derbyshire countryside. He pulled away and fell heavily on his back beside her on the bed while a wide eyed, flushed and out of breath Elizabeth stared at the canopy in wonder.

In retrospect, whatever little time she had for that, throughout the night and the day, for Darcy hardly left her alone for more than a second, she thought that it would have been better to relent earlier. For she was sure that his frenzied passion throughout the night was pretty much due to her holding out on him for so many days. She turned her head slightly towards him and could see that he was breathing just as raggedly as herself.

She once again burned crimson at the sight of him after their love making, still unable to believe how boldly he had behaved throughout the night when she was the one supposed to be wanton. Slowly as their breathing normalized, Darcy pulled up the covers and turned towards her, his arm slipping under her and pulling her deep into his embrace.

"I…,"

"You…,"

They both began at the same time and then stopped to allow the other to speak.

"Err…"

"Um…"

Incoherent noises seemed to be the order of the day.

"I cannot believe…"

"You are perfec…"

It happened again. They pursed their lips and smiled as they looked deeply into each other's eyes.

"Wuf…"

Darcy groaned. They were not alone.

"What is Romeo doing here?" He propped himself on his elbow to locate the little puppy.

"Wuf-wuf," Romeo was frantically circling the bed, jumping up and down for one look of Elizabeth.

"You have spoiled Romeo rotten, Mrs. Darcy," Darcy scowled at her as she grinned up at him and snuggled closer.

"Forget about Romeo," she tried to pull him back, "you were saying something."

"I am not going to say anything intimate in front of an audience," he frowned at her in disapproval.

"Oh fie," she brushed his hair away from his forehead, "who knows how long Romeo has been inside the room and you do not need me to detail how intimate we were throughout the night," she raised an eyebrow in challenge at him.

"Although it would be interesting to see how you _detail _it," his eyes darkened as they roved over her and then stilled at her eyes.

"If you really want so much privacy then you should probably turn Romeo out," she suggested, ignoring his innuendo.

"No," he fell back on the pillows, "you should do it," he said firmly as he placed his arm under his head, "you are the one responsible for Romeo's unruly behaviour." He teased looking sideways at her frowning face, "besides," Darcy turned towards her and traced her arm with his fingers, "I would love to watch you walk around au natural, darling Elizabeth."

"Do not hold your breath, darling Fitzwilliam," she teased back and expertly got into her gown under the covers and then threw them off to run after Romeo, but the little puppy quickly got under the bed making it impossible for her to catch it.

And suddenly she felt herself being swept into the arms of her husband and he quickly crossed over to her room and closed the door firmly behind them.

"Romeo is welcome to my room," he carried her to the bed, "as long as I get to sleep in the garden of orange blossoms."

Elizabeth's laughter tinkered in the room as they settled under the covers, holding each other tightly.

"I adore you, Elizabeth," he kissed her forehead and the bed slowly began to get warm, "you have made every moment of my life beautiful."

"It is my forte," she touched her nose to his and he smiled a soft, beautiful smile that lit up her world.

"Last night…," he began again but Elizabeth cut his sentence short.

"And half of this day," she snuggled closer as she teased.

"Hm," he shook his head at her and then his look became intense, "I have never experienced anything more wonderful and fulfilling." Darcy kissed her softly on her cheeks and forehead and her eyes, "it was exquisite, magical." His lips stilled near hers, "there was a moment when I thought I would die of pleasure," he breathed on her lips and she could feel the heat building up between them once again.

"I felt it as well," she admitted as her mind went back to that specific moment when she had felt all his love hitting her in strong waves of passion that culminated into unbelievable pleasure. "Oh how I felt it," she gulped at the memory and then the reality.

His love was all that she had needed to feel whole and he was giving it to her in overwhelmingly abundant doses now. It was more than she had ever asked for, he was all that she had ever wanted. Elizabeth eagerly returned his kiss, he had more than earned it.

* * *

**Six months later…**

"You are not even paying attention," she steered the phaeton towards the left side of he road, "seriously William, you are an awful teacher," she complained.

"You are doing wonderful darling," he said absently as she almost ran into a tree, "absolutely wonderful."

"That does it," she brought the vehicle to an abrupt halt in the middle of the road, "tell me what is bothering you, now."

"It is about George," he turned towards her and marveled at how she still had the power to make his heart race even after so much time had passed. "They have set a date again."

"And why is that a problem?" She frowned at him, "it was kind of him to delay his own wedding so that you could attend Jane and Charles's with me. They had to choose another date and so they did, what is the problem with it?"

"He wants to get married at the end of this month, before Georgiana's coming out in February," Darcy kept frowning, "I do not know if I should leave you alone here in such harsh winters, perhaps you should go to Hertfordshire and stay with your parents till Georgiana and I come back from the wedding."

"But then I would have to travel alone all the way up to Hertfordshire," she pointed out, "and Mama did get pretty fed up with me the last time I was there for Jane's wedding."

"But your father was happy," he argued, "more like ecstatic."

"As ecstatic as he can ever be," she chuckled. "Oh really Fitzwillaim," she tried to turn the phaeton around but failed miserably. Darcy took the reins from her hands, "you worry too much. Besides, has Georgiana not told you that she does not want to come out this year?"

"But she is seventeen now," he said in exasperation. All his arguments had fallen on deaf ears as Georgiana had argued that she was not ready. "What could she possibly be waiting for?"

"It is her decision," Elizabeth rubbed her gloved hands together to make them warm; January in Derbyshire was rather cold, "stop pestering her like you do me."

"I do not pester you about anything," he looked indignantly at her as they neared the house.

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow at him, "you almost drove me wild with your hints on the various merits of knowing how to ride."

"Well, there _are_ various merits to knowing how to ride," he huffed as he stopped the carriage in front of the house and jumped off before helping her down as well.

"None as compared to walking," She took his arm and they entered the house while the stable boy took hold of the reins.

"Well take winters for an example," he began in his typical meticulous manner, "walking can make your feet grow cold after a while, where as riding keeps them off the sleety ground, thus maintaining their temperature."

"This is a rather lame argument, Mr. Darcy," she entered his study with them and both of them quickly made their way towards the fire. "Besides, my feet never get cold."

"The man who shares your bed says otherwise," he removed his gloves and then moved on to hers.

"He likes to play the martyr," she teased as she allowed the gloves to be pulled off her fingers and tossed aside, "I usually indulge him."

"Oh so you deliberately keep your feet cold as an indulgence?" He rubbed her hands between his as his grey eyes glinted at her.

"Things I do for love," she smiled impishly at him.

"I shall miss you," he pulled her closer, "I wish you could come as well," he said absently and then started, "I am not hinting that you should," he looked apprehensively at her.

"Of course, Fitzwilliam," she softly touched his face. "But I cannot come even if I want to."

"I know," he replied as he softly kissed her forehead.

"You do not," she pulled back a little and gazed at him with a completely different look on her face, "I…uh…I cannot travel…you are going to become a father soon," she said softly and Darcy felt startled.

"You mean you are," he stuttered and she nodded with a somewhat bashful grin on her face, "truly?"

"Truly," she assured, " we shall be parents by this August."

"Elizabeth," he captured her face in his hands, "I am sorely tempted to say something that usually only Bingley does." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and Darcy whispered softly, "you are an _angel."_

She laughed heartily as he pulled her into a tender embrace.

"Do you have any idea," he inhaled her scent, "how much happiness you have brought to my life? It simply feels unbelievable how much I love you and how much I need you in my life." He pulled back to look into her shiny eyes, "I cannot even imagine what my life would have been without you," he said with great feeling, "thank you for being you, Elizabeth."

She softly kissed his chin, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by his words.

"A girl, then?" She asked and he pulled her to him again.

"A girl," he agreed and then mumbled against her neck, "and no more phaeton rides for you from now on."

"Yes Mama," she pulled back and her eyes twinkled. Darcy threw back his head and laughed.

* * *

Georgiana pulled the study door shut with care, not that the two individuals inside would have noticed. They were in a world of their own, as usual. She smiled as she climbed up the stairs. William and Elizabeth's love for each other was what she wanted for herself, but she was not sure that she was ready for such a heady experience and that was why she had refused to come out that year.

Elizabeth's laughter broke through the confines of the room and followed Georgiana up the stairs as she smiled without knowing what the joke inside was. She was satisfied to see them so gloriously happy. And though Elizabeth would never hesitate to argue or call William out on his blunders and overbearing attitude, at the end of the day, they always climbed up the stairs with entwined fingers. He would always be mindful of her comfort and she would always be attentive to his. Georgiana sighed happily as she entered the music room and sat down to her music; they truly had _all _that they needed, _nothing _was wanting anymore.

**~ The End ~**


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